


Not Another Holiday Story

by amidtheflowers



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Gift Fic, Slow Burn, Smut, forced cohabitation, holiday fic, the slowest burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 17:05:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8409661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidtheflowers/pseuds/amidtheflowers
Summary: When Bucky stayed behind at the Tower while the Avengers went on vacation for the holidays, he had no idea he wasn't the only one who stayed behind.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leftennant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftennant/gifts).



> This forced cohabitation fic was prompted by leftennant with our mutual desperation for more wintershock fic in the tag. Blame her for this. 
> 
> You'd think I'd write the Halloween oneshot first and leave this for at least mid-November, but nope. The muse does what it does. 
> 
> Enjoy! xx

**.:.**

**Not Another Holiday Story**

**.:.**

For the sixth time that morning, Steve paused what he was doing to glance at Bucky. It was a cycle on repeat—stuff a shirt in the duffel, glance about the room, look at Bucky. His mouth would open and close as if working himself up to speak, but at the last second he’d clear his throat a little awkwardly and head back to the closet.

It was starting to get old. And grating. Bucky feigned ignorance at first, staring out the window where he sat next to. After the seventh time Bucky turned his glare to his friend.

“For God’s sake, Steve.”

“Sorry,” Steve said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Just. You sure you wanna stay behind?”

Bucky stared at him until Steve sighed. “You deserve a vacation too, you know.”

“I am on vacation. Here.”

“Tony owns the resort. Didn’t you talk about skiing in Vermont when we were kids?”

“Probably.”

“Shit. Sorry.”

“You’ve been saying that a lot. The punk I knew didn’t know the word, just a smart mouth that never knew when to quit.”

Steve sighed again and Bucky allowed himself a little smile. “Yeah, yeah, and the jerk I knew didn’t enjoy screwing with me this much.”

“Guess we both left things in the ice, huh?”

“Bucky…” Steve gave him a look.

Bucky feigned innocence. “First step is making fun of it, Stevie. Ask Sam. Something ‘bout self-preservation?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the first step. Or any step they taught us in therapy.”

“I ain’t going skiing, Steve.”

“We’ll have our own cabins. There’s a town nearby, small and local shops. And the pool—you even bet on the pool who’s going to beat Natasha’s record this year in the ski race, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Bucky flashed a grin at the fond memory of Clint’s offended squawk when Bucky bet an entire month’s earnings against him. “Don’t forget to tell me who wins.”

“I won’t. I hear Tony’s doing a livestream of the whole thing, could probably watch it right here.”

“Live…”

“A video in real-time.”

Bucky nodded. “I’ll make sure to watch that.”

Steve zipped up the bag and slung it over his shoulder. Bucky stood and walked out Steve’s apartment with him, glancing down the wide hallway where several of his teammates were already bringing out their suitcases. Sam was just hauling his own duffel bag from his room when he caught sight of Bucky and Steve and instantly grinned.

“Ready to get your ass kicked, Rogers?”

Bucky snorted.

“Dream on, Wilson,” Steve said wryly, sauntering over to Sam with a growing smile. “You couldn’t do it last year, you’re not going to do it this year.”

“I swear to God if you say ‘on your left’ again while we’re skiing—”

“You hearing this, Buck? Man doesn’t like basic safety precautions.”

“Safety precautions my ass,” Sam shook his head. His eyes slid to Bucky, who was silently watching the exchange. “You good, Barnes?”

Bucky started, not expecting the sudden attention. “Yeah. Uh, yeah I’m good.”

“You’re gonna regret sitting this one out,” Sam crossed his arms as he glanced at Steve, humor dancing in his eyes. “Someone always drunk kisses after the championship.”

“Last year it was Bruce,” Steve recalled fondly.

“Yeah?” Bucky straightened with interest and glanced at the scientist standing not a ten feet away. “Who’d he lay one on?”

“Tony,” Steve and Sam said in unison, then laughed. Sam’s smile turned mischievous. “Hey, didn’t Darcy also—”

“Speak of the devil,” Bucky muttered, shifting to look behind Sam.

“Alright, motley crew! Head to the roof!” Tony shouted over the chatter as he slid a sleek pair of sunglasses over his eyes. Catching sight of Bucky, Tony strode towards him and glanced briefly at Steve and Sam. “Right, you. Kitchen will be fully stocked, use the number on the cell I gave you if any shit stirs. You got the whole fourteenth floor to yourself so expect booby traps if you try breaking into my room.”

“Why would I do that?” Bucky’s brow furrowed.

Tony gave an eerie little smile. “Because Legolas over there tried to and his eyebrow never did grow back the same, did it?”

Clint sidled up next to Tony as he hefted his pack over his shoulder, shooting Tony a dark look. “It didn’t.”

“I don’t see a difference,” Sam frowned.

“I fill it in with a brow pencil. Ready to go?”

They all nodded, and Steve turned back to Bucky. “You’ll be okay by yourself?”

Bucky wanted to respond with a dry retort, that he’d been alone for more than half of his life now, but instead gave a wan smile. “I’ll call if I need to.” Steve stared at Bucky for a moment, as if trying to pry answers out of his eyes. Bucky looked away with a sigh. “Go on, punk. Have fun.”

“Thanks.” They clapped each other on the back. Steve shouldered his bag. “See you in two weeks, Buck.”

**-:-**

Darcy shivered when a particularly rough gust of wind nearly made her take a step back, and she balled her hands in the sleeves of her sweater with a grit of her teeth. “I can’t believe you agreed to go to this, Jane.”

“Why do you always act surprised when I do things?” Jane lifted her chin as she adjusted the scarf around her neck. “I’m cool. I’m young.”

“You’re Jane,” said Darcy. “I’m surprised you didn’t pack half the lab with you.” At Jane’s sudden sheepish look, Darcy widened her eyes. “ _No._ ”

“Just a few things! We’ll be higher north, I have to do some readings at night. I’m only bringing one telescope.” Darcy stared down the astrophysicist until she wilted. “Fine. Four scanners and a pocket telescope.”

“A pocket telescope?” Jane shot Darcy a withering glare when Darcy threw her head back, cackling. “Any booty you’re planning to steal? Did you swipe Odin’s golden Eyepatch of Destiny last time you were off-world?”

“Why are you so mean to me, Darcy?”

“Can I have half the loot?”

“There’s no loot—”

“But if there was you’d theoretically give me half, right?”

“What? Yes. Of course. Wait, that’s not the point!” Darcy grinned at Jane’s exasperation until she laughed and pulled Darcy in for a long hug.

“You’re sure you don’t want to come? Tony wouldn’t mind a last minute addition. And it won’t be the same without you and your vaguely objectifying comments on Thor’s muscles.”

“I’m sure, boss lady. You know I can’t stand snow as it is. Also, I take offense to that! I make vaguely objectifying comments on everyone’s muscles.” Darcy gently squeezed Jane’s bicep and quirked her eyebrow suggestively. “Been working out?”

Jane was nodding eagerly when Tony, along with the merry band of heroes, emerged from the roof access door carrying bags and suitcases. Tony halted in surprise when he caught sight of Darcy, then redoubled his stride. “I thought you’d be off herding cattle by now,” Tony sidled next to Darcy as he pulled off his sunglasses. “Something happen, short stack?”

“You don’t herd cattle in the middle of winter in Virginia,” Darcy rolled her eyes. “And no, nothing big. Mom forgot to mention she’s vacationing in Bali with my stepdad. I returned the keys to the Stark Car to Happy.”

“Huh. Her loss. Why aren’t you dressed?” Tony blinked, glancing between Jane and Darcy. “Oh come _on_ , Lewis. There’s no excuse now for you not to come with us.”

“I for one would like to see a repeat performance of last year,” Sam smirked as he headed to the quinjet. “I hear their alcohol stores will be fully stocked.”

“That’s exactly why I am _not_ coming,” Darcy crossed her arms over her chest. “Snow and booze is your thing but I’ve learned my lesson. I’m going to stay right here drinking cocoa and watching every single Christmas movie starting from the eighties to present day.”

“Does that include _Die Hard_?” Tony flicked the tip of Darcy’s nose before grabbing the handle of his suitcase again, ignoring Darcy’s angry pout. “Right, we’ll be back on New Year’s Day. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“So I can go in your lab and tinker with all your stuff and make my own pipe bomb?”

“Hilarious. Email me your pyrotechnic ideas, I’ll look ‘em over.” Tony ruffled the top of Darcy’s hair before turning away and heading to the quinjet. Thor trailed after him and waved jovially at Jane and Darcy, hanging back to wait for Jane.

Jane turned to Darcy. “You’ll do the data checks, right?”

“Every day at four I’ll check the calibrations,” Darcy shoved gently at Jane’s shoulders. “Now _go_. Thor looks two seconds away from carrying you bridal style.”

Darcy waved as the rest of the group passed by, and stepped back towards the door as she watched the quinjet roar to life and then slowly lift off. Her hand fell limply by her side once it was out of sight. Darcy sighed quietly to herself, then thought of the next two weeks. No work, no responsibilities, and a whole Tower to herself.

A slow grin spread on her lips.

**-:-**

**Dec. 17**

**-:-**

Bucky didn’t realize how quiet it would be. Logically it shouldn’t have mattered, as all the walls in the Tower were soundproofed and Bucky never really heard anything anyway, but still. There was something eerie about the stillness; the quiet seemed to permeate not only across the fourteenth floor but the entire building. There were still people working on the other floors though, and Bucky avoided them completely, opting to slip quietly to and from the Tower early in the morning to do his morning run. This left him with a silent headspace, at least on the first day.

True to Tony’s word, the communal kitchen was fully stocked. Despite there being a full kitchen in his own suite, Bucky rather enjoyed the common rooms and the short walk that came with going to it. There was something livable about them, with none of Stark’s modern furnishings and all of Pepper’s stylistic and comfortable additions. The sofa was soft yet firm with a massive wicker basket filled with blankets, a large television that rivaled the small screens Bucky remembered were used in cinemas, back in his day. There was an archway that led to a small parlor lined with shelves brimming with books. Now with nobody looking over his shoulder and hyperanalzying his every movement, Bucky perused them avidly before picking out one about a boy wizard.

Lunch was forgotten as Bucky poured through the book, and dinner was a quiet affair with leftover chicken and a glass of milk.

All in all it was a good day, even if the quiet was starting to make the noise in his head escalate.

**-:-**

Darcy slept in late.

Breakfast, brunch, and lunch came and went before Darcy rolled out of bed, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders like a wizened king. Dinner ended up being waffles and the last of the baked ziti Darcy made two days ago, the latter which she sniffed experimentally before chucking it in the microwave.

At 4 p.m. she trudged to Jane’s lab and checked the calibration on the machines that were actively running and collecting data. At 4:03 p.m. Darcy took the elevator back up to the fourteenth floor and to her apartment.

Too lazy to start up a Christmas-themed movie, Darcy ended up flicking through the channels and idly watching whatever garbage television show was on, and for a moment Darcy was transported back to her first two years of college—shitty food, shitty television, and laziness rearing its ugly head at the sudden flux of freedom and lack of real responsibilities.

“Oh my god,” Darcy was horrified. “I’m reverting back. No!”

With a herculean effort Darcy switched the channel to whatever was coming on Disney and started straightening up her apartment, going as far as cleaning out her refrigerator and changing the towels and bedsheets with clean ones.

Once her apartment was spotless, Darcy stood in the middle of her living room with her hands on her hips and a renewed sense of purpose and motivation coursing through her. “Tomorrow,” Darcy said to herself firmly, looking proudly at her handiwork. “Tomorrow, we get this show on the road.”

Pulling open her laptop, Darcy began writing up a list.

**-:-**

**Dec. 18**

**-:-**

During his time in therapy Bucky adopted a rigorous schedule to keep himself focused. At 5 a.m. he went for a jog around the track, a shower at 6:30 a.m., and breakfast at 8:00 a.m. At noon he had lunch, read a book, and then would attempt familiarizing himself with whatever shit Stark had lying around—tablets, laptops, whichever.

Most of his free time was spent reading—the Potter boy was becoming too interesting and Bucky felt he needed to savor it (he was already on _Chamber of Secrets_ ), so he began reading Tony’s old MIT textbooks. It reminded him of Howard. Sometimes that wasn’t always a good thing.

At 3:30 p.m. Bucky liked to rest a little and take a short nap, though he mostly stared up at the ceiling or messed around on the phone Tony had given him the year before, when he first arrived at the Tower.

He never noticed a door opening across the hall at 4:00 p.m., the elevator taking two trips, and the door quietly closing again.

**-:-**

“Alright,” Darcy clapped her hands together as she stared at the array of ingredients placed strategically on her kitchen counter. “Epic bake marathon, here we go.”

With a smirk, Darcy put on _Die Hard_ in the background.

Fifteen minutes and four cracked eggs later, though, Darcy was just barely not losing her shit.

“Is this really happening? Seriously?” Darcy pressed hard on the buttons to the oven, but they remained mutinously unresponsive. “ _Seriously_? I just used you a few days ago!”

Darcy peaked inside the oven but couldn’t for the life of her find a way to fix it. “Hey, Friday? Can you run a diagnostic on the oven?”

When she was met with silence, Darcy pulled her head from the oven and stared curiously at the ceiling. “Friday?”

Darcy jerked in surprise when Tony’s voice filtered through her room. “Personnel access to artificial intelligence unit F.R.I.D.A.Y. has been disabled to low-power mode. Even A.I.s need vacation days,” Darcy narrowed her eyes at Tony’s oddly toneless voice, as if reading it off a paper. “Call me if you really need it. Otherwise, get your shit together.”

“Jerk,” Darcy muttered darkly as she stood. With a final kick to the oven door Darcy turned to the counter, staring at the two dozen vanilla cupcakes in desperate need of baking.

“Well,” Darcy sighed and grabbed the tins before striding to the door. “Guess we’re moving the party to the communal kitchen for the rest of the week.”

**-:-**

Bucky smelled vanilla.

This was odd. Very odd. Bucky shouldn’t be smelling anything. He lifted his arm and pressed his nose against his sweater, inhaling deeply. Not the fabric softener, then.

Slowly, Bucky rose to his feet from the spot he was perched on his sofa. Was it coming through the vents? This shouldn’t be possible. Why was he smelling vanilla? Was this a warning? Bucky strapped two knives to his belt before exiting his apartment.

He followed the smell to the communal area. His eyes darted around suspiciously, fingers brushing against the hilt of his knife. After a careful sweep, he found the living quarters and the kitchen empty.

The scent grew stronger when he sauntered into the kitchen. His eyes traveled across the cabinets and floor slowly before finally landing on the island counter.

His mouth watered immediately.

Sitting atop two pearly white cake stands were cupcakes. Two dozen, from the looks of it. Each wrapped in a plain pink liner with chocolate frosting swirled on top.

Bucky’s hand automatically reached for one before he could stop himself—but he _did_ stop himself. His fingers curled into a fist.

It could be a trap.

There could be poison in them.

Bucky pressed his hand against the oven. Still warm. Then he pressed his fingers gently on one of the cupcakes. Also warm. Somebody had just baked these.

Bucky started to back away but at his next inhale he smelled the sweet scent of cake and vanilla and the faint tinge of milk chocolate. Mournfully, Bucky glanced back at the cupcakes.

A thought hit Bucky.

He was a goddamn super soldier. Poison wouldn’t work on him _anyway_. Not unless he was dropped in a vat of it.

Licking his lips, Bucky slowly walked back to the kitchen island and picked up a cake on the top row. He brought it close to his nose and breathed in deeply. His eyes almost rolled back. No traces of chemicals. Just soft sugary sweetness.

The cupcake liner was off in half a second and the cake shoved in his mouth in the next ten. He was already tearing off the second liner before he fully swallowed the first cupcake, groaning at the burst of flavor in his mouth. God, he hadn’t had anything this fresh in—in nearly a century. “Jesus,” Bucky sighed as he licked frosting from his thumb, savoring the flavor. There was always something different about food when it was store bought versus freshly baked, and Bucky sure as hell could taste the difference. It brought warm memories, of pie crusts and puff pastry, of his mother rolling out dough and whipping batter in the long days of summer, when Bucky was just a boy with a teasing smile and a skinny boy for a best friend.

It was probably left for him, Bucky considered as he grabbed four more cakes before heading back to his apartment. Tony had said it would be a fully stocked kitchen, right? Maybe it also included fresh dessert delivery.

Smiling to himself, Bucky ate two more cakes in his room before storing the last two in tupperware to save for later.

**-:-**

Adjusting the glasses on her nose, Darcy swung the book back and forth in her hand as she made her way to the communal kitchen. She’d left briefly to let the cakes cool, but as she rounded in the kitchen Darcy’s jaw dropped.

Half of the cupcakes were mysteriously missing. Her eyes dropped to the counter where four discarded cupcake liners lay forgotten.

“What a pig,” Darcy sniffed as she tossed them in the bin. Chalking it up to strange chance, and that Darcy had baked more cupcakes than she actually would eat, Darcy contented herself with a mug of cocoa and cupcake before opening her book.

**-:-**

**Dec. 19**

**-:-**

When half of her sugar cookies disappeared right off the cooling rack, Darcy grit her teeth.

“Not. The. Sugar. Cookies.”

She bit her lip before pulling out ingredients again and quickly working up a small batch of chocolate chip cookies. Setting the timer, Darcy put her hands on her hips and waited by the doorway.

Nothing.

Darcy sighed when the timer went off and she quickly pulled the cookies out of the oven, setting them on a new cooling rack.

Darcy waited for half a beat before turning around and heading to the bathroom—she was curious about the culprit but not willing to sacrifice her bladder over it.

When she came back, however, five of the ten chocolate chip cookies were gone.

“Well,” said Darcy with a resigned sigh, “at least they leave some for me.”

**-:-**

Something very odd was happening and Bucky didn’t like it.

The blanket. _His_ blanket. Was gone from the wicker basket in the communal area.

Not only that, someone had taken the rest of the Harry Potter books from the parlor.

Bucky had thought level fourteen was restricted access. Somebody was using this facility and was screwing with his shit.

“Friday,” Bucky said hesitantly, still not quite used to speaking to an A.I. “Can you show me the last twenty-four hours in this room?”

When he heard Tony’s prerecorded voice and snarky response, Bucky rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone.

It dialed for less than twenty seconds before someone picked up. “Buck?”

“Steve? Why the hell are you answering Stark’s phone?”

“Tony’s a bit…indisposed right now.” Steve sounded like he was barely holding back a laugh. “Did something happen?”

“No,” Bucky shook his head. “I just had…a question.”

“What is it?”

Bucky gnawed on his lower lip for a bit before replying, “The other people working in the Tower…they don’t have, like, access to our floor, right?”

“Of course not. It’s just the cleaning crew and the person who restocks the kitchen.”

“You know who they are?”

“No…Bucky, did something happen?”

Worry was starting to bleed into Steve’s voice and Bucky wasn’t about to have that. “Absolutely not. Recreational questions. Anyone get drunk yet?”

Steve paused a beat and Bucky held his breath. “Jane got a little tipsy, but so far nothing too serious,” Steve answered, and Bucky could hear the grin in his voice. “It doesn’t get serious until the end of the trip, though.”

“You having a good time?”

“Yeah, Buck. Really wish you could come someday. It’s really beautiful here.”

“Maybe someday,” Bucky echoed, but it was halfhearted and a lie. He knew Steve knew that as well. “I gotta go now. Don’t let Sam kick your ass, punk.”

“You’re such a jerk.”

Bucky ended the call with a smile but it quickly tugged downwards into a frown.

Pulling out a new blanket from the basket, Bucky sulked on the sofa. It probably wasn’t the cleaning crew, but the person. Whoever was restocking the kitchen and baking things for him was probably having a little rest in the living area while Bucky was away.

He wanted to feel more discomfited by this but he only managed a little sigh. “At least they leave everything else alone.”

**-:-**

**Dec. 20**

**-:-**

She was ready for him this time.

Darcy set the silver tray of macaroons next to the jelly rolls and sprinted away, hiding behind the refrigerator.

Her muscles started cramping by the time she heard the first sound. A quiet whisper of the door opening, the soft slide of shoes on tile. She heard the macaroons shifting on the plate and the soft _crunch_ of it being bitten into when Darcy made her presence known, darting from the fridge and pointing a bright pink spatula at the culprit.

“A-ha!”

Darcy’s triumphant smile promptly disappeared.

Dark hair shrouding half his face and a macaroon halfway to his lips, Bucky Barnes stared at her like he was planning the twelve different ways he could end her in less than five seconds.

They stood there for a while staring at each other. His eyes trailed from the pink pajamas with little ice cream cone patterns to the Culver sweatshirt. Darcy tried moving one foot behind the other to hide the fuzzy slippers.

Darcy cleared her throat.

“So, uh—you’re the guy, huh?” At his blank stare, Darcy elaborated, “You’ve been eating my goodies. I—I mean,” Darcy stuttered, eyes going wide but he merely continued to watch her curiously, “my bakes. The dessert stuff. You ate my sugar cookies yesterday and I was pissed.”

Bucky glanced at the unfinished macaroon then back to her. “You’re the one restocking the kitchen?”

Darcy blinked. “What? No. I just bake.”

“…Stark hired me a baker?”

“Excuse me?” Darcy reared her head back a bit. “I work here. And not as a baker. Think lab work, dude. What the hell do you do?”

Silly question, really, because Darcy knew exactly what this guy did, even if they had never been formally introduced. Which was odd in and of itself, considering she knew he’d been living in the Tower for nearly a year now.

He seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “You…you’re not allowed on this floor. Level fourteen is restricted access.”

Darcy raised her eyebrows. “Well good thing I _live_ on this floor, then, isn’t it?” Bucky started shaking his head very slowly. Darcy paused and took in the genuine confusion on his face, and tried a different approach. “I don’t think we ever formally met. I’m Darcy Lewis. I do science with Jane Foster. You know Jane?”

Something familiar flickered in Bucky’s eyes. “You work with Foster?” Darcy nodded patiently. He looked away, thinking, then turned back to her with his eyes wide. “You’re the one who beat Steve in that pie-eating contest a few months ago?”

“Ah, so you _have_ heard of me,” Darcy beamed proudly. “Yep, that was me. Dude’s a total lightweight. I shudder to think how he handled his booze pre-serum.”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “Not well, believe me.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, must’ve lost my manners. I’m Bucky.”

He held out his hand and Darcy shook it firmly. “I kinda figured. Weird we never ran into each other until now.” Darcy frowned as a thought occurred to her. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be on that ski trip everyone else went to? I thought I was the only one who stayed back.”

Bucky shook his head as he tucked his hands in his pockets. “Didn’t feel up for it. I got a lotta reasons not to like snow and mountains.” He didn’t seem willing to talk about it more than that.

Darcy nodded in understanding. “I get that. Really. I kind of hate skiing and snow and adding the Avengers to the mix really…yeah, it’s not something I’m willing to repeat.”

Bucky hiked up a brow but didn’t say anything, only humming quietly in acknowledgement. The uncomfortable awkwardness returned, and Darcy searched for something to say or do, or find a way to extract herself from the kitchen as painlessly as humanly possible. She started fiddling with the spatula still in her hand when Bucky spoke again.

“Why the baking?”

It was a tentative question, but Darcy was relieved to find a reason to fill the air with words again and took the bait without hesitation. “Holiday baking. It’s kind of boring around here with nothing to really do and I’m doing a kind of…marathon, I guess? Put on a Christmas movie, bake, and repeat. It’s what I do every year.” Darcy bit her lip, glancing at the half-eaten macaroon still in his hand. “Are they any good?”

Bucky looked down at the macaroon and started. “Oh. Yeah! Yeah,” he stuffed the rest of it in his mouth and swallowed quickly. “You’re really good. With all this…” he vaguely gestured at the food and the kitchen. “At the baking.” Bucky coughed, clearing his throat.

Darcy’s lips twitched in a little smile. Okay. The man was officially beyond adorable. He was turning pink. How many people turned pink while talking about baked goods anymore? Not nearly enough. “Good. I mean, I guessed it. You ate half of everything I made. Gives a girl a confidence boost.” Darcy grinned, and Bucky’s shoulders relaxed as he tentatively smiled back.

**-:-**

Bucky closed the door quietly behind him and went straight for the sofa, falling down gracelessly on it and staring at the ceiling.

The phone in his pocket vibrated and Bucky pulled it out, squinting at the name on the screen before answering. “Hey, Steve.”

“Hey—listen, I just wanted check in again. See if everything is alright. I was kinda distracted before.”

Bucky smirked. “If you get this spooked every time I call out of the blue I’m gonna stop doing it.”

He heard Steve chuckle, but his voice carried a slight edge of concern. “But you’re okay, right?”

“Yeah, punk, I’m okay.” Bucky hesitated. His fingers picked a loose thread on his sleeve. “I met Darcy Lewis today.”

“Darcy?” Steve sounded surprised. “Oh. _Oh_. Yeah she stayed back from the trip. It was all very last minute. You’ve met her before though, right?”

“Nope. First time today.”

“Really? I coulda sworn you did. She lives on our floor next to Jane and Thor’s room.”

“Yeah. She’s…interesting.”

“She is.” Steve was silent for a moment. “I think you’d like her. She’s real easy to talk to, a nice gal.”

Bucky wanted to say that yes, yes she was nice and he didn’t feel uneasy when talking to her, but instead he said, “A nice gal, huh? She threatened me with a spatula.”

**-:-**

**Dec. 21**

**-:-**

Bucky was zipping up his jacket and pulling out his gloves for his morning run when he heard a frustrated growl coming from the back end of the hallway. Bucky shut his front door behind him and followed the sound with a curious frown.

Standing before the garbage chute was Darcy, hair falling down her shoulders and back and moving with every violent jerk she made with her arms. Bucky’s eyes followed her movements to the large garbage bag struggling to fit in the chute.

“Need a hand?”

Darcy’s head whipped around, looking him square in the eye. “Could you please? This just won’t—” Darcy gave another massive nudge, “—go— _in_. There’s not even that much in the bag.”

Bucky stepped forward and Darcy immediately released her hold on the bag, giving him space. Staring at the bag thoughtfully, Bucky moved closer and gave a sharp shove with both his hands. It fell down easily.

“Score one for the six million dollar man,” said Darcy, clearly impressed. She flicked her gaze at his metal arm, hidden beneath his sweater and jacket. “That come in a petite size?”

Bucky let out an incredulous laugh. “You’d want one?”

Darcy shrugged, smiling. “Beats exercising, right? Just get a bionic arm. I’ll never need Thor to open the jam jars for me again.”

Bucky shook his head. The only one who ever braved joking about his arm was Sam or Tony, and even then it wasn’t quite like this. It never felt like this.

“Why are you doing this so early?” Bucky asked. “It’s five in the morning.”

Darcy nodded with a sigh. “It was starting to smell a bit raw in my apartment and I didn’t have it in me to wait any longer,” she admitted. “I might also be trying to force myself into some, ah…better habits? I usually hit rock bottom when given vacation time with nothing to do and no one to really see…so keeping busy is helping. Waking up early helps.”

Bucky nodded, his eyes widening in rare understanding. “Yeah, I…I get that.” He pulled out his gloves again and shrugged them over his fingers. “S’why I’m going for a run. Routine helps, you know?”

“Yup. So far my routine is breakfast, check Jane’s stuff, and the evening Christmas movie and baking. It’s cool you do the whole running thing,” Darcy gestured to his outfit, clearly made for exercise. “See, my brain says _you should do it_ but my body says _cookies and milk_.”

Bucky snorted, the slight edge he’d been feeling the past few days slowly dissipating. With an easy smile spread on his lips, Bucky found himself saying something he never, ever thought he’d willingly offer. “Why don’t you join me?”

Darcy blinked in surprise. “Now?”

“No, next month.”

Darcy raised a brow. “They never said you were a wise ass, Barnes.”

Bucky’s lips twitched, something warm blooming in his chest. “Come on. It usually helps motivation when someone’s doing it with you.”

Darcy’s expression turned tragic as excuses fell from her lips. “But it’s so cold, and I’m so small.”

“Wear a sweater.”

Darcy made a disgruntled, mopey noise before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Right, fine. You’re right, it’ll be good for me. Give me ten minutes.”

**-:-**

“I’m dying.”

“…You’re not dying.”

“Then explain the wheezing and the pain.”

Bucky handed her a water bottle before cracking open his own. “You’re out of shape,” Bucky explained, and Darcy shot him a glare.

“Nope. I’m dying. I think I’m seeing a light. I want to follow it but I can’t, because I can’t move and I’m dying.”

“That’s just a street lamp, Darcy.”

Darcy gave him a silent look and took a long gulp of water. The last hour had been agonizing and more than a little humiliating; she’d only managed to keep up with him the first ten minutes before the muscles around her ribs started cramping and her feet pounded hard on the rubber track. Bucky was a silent runner and Darcy naturally filled the air with chatter, but when she reached the point when words could no longer form and Bucky had to significantly slow his stride for her to keep up with him, Darcy wanted to curl up on the track in lone misery.

“This is the worst,” Darcy groused, wiping the lingering moisture from her lips with the back of her glove. “Why do you do this to yourself every day? Being healthy is important but god, at what cost?”

“Habit, I guess,” Bucky shrugged. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Just…just don’t like sitting still for too long, is all.”

Darcy gazed at him softly. “I definitely get that.”

**-:-**

**Dec. 22**

**-:-**

It was raining.

In Jane’s lab.

It was raining in Jane’s lab and half of the equipment was uncovered and she could just see the machinery already breaking down in the inside and Darcy was _freaking the fuck out_.

“Oh god oh god oh god—” Darcy punched the control panel hoping in vain it would stop the automatic sprinklers on the ceiling, but it only activated a second set of sprinklers. Darcy yelped at the fresh onslaught of water pouring over her and in an act of true, valiantly foolish desperation, she scrambled on top of a work bench and tried swiping at the sprinklers manually.

“Why—won’t—you—shut—off!” Darcy shrieked as she got completely soaked through. She didn’t know what triggered this maelstrom, all she did was step in the lab and her shoulder had accidentally brushed against the control panel next to the door. Now all of Jane’s research would be ruined, the ongoing data corrupted, and they’d be set back eight months because all of Jane’s equipment was soon to be very much destroyed.

“Friday!” Darcy screamed. “Shit—somebody!” Darcy shoved her hand the pockets of her shorts before realizing she’d left her phone on charge back in her apartment. Spinning on her heel, Darcy ran out of the lab and frantically pressed the elevator button until the doors slid open.

It took less than a minute for Darcy to run out of the elevator and throw the door to her apartment open, wrench the phone off her nightstand, and press Jane’s number in. “Come on, come on, come on,” Darcy muttered under her breath and strode out of her apartment into the hallway, pacing worriedly.

Jane’s voicemail started and Darcy wanted to cry. “Oh god,” Darcy looked around. Her mind moving on instinct, Darcy bypassed the rest of the doors down the hallway to the one she had never been to. Pounding her fist, Darcy yelled, “Bucky! Bucky, please open up! God, I hope you’re home—”

The door flew open and Bucky stood before her in shock.

“Darcy?” His eyes roved over her rapidly, taking in her soaked clothes and hair sticking to her face. “What happened?”

“The lab,” Darcy barely managed to say through her panting, adrenaline and fear coursing through her and making her sound shaky, “Jane’s lab—sprinklers went off—I don’t know what to do, it won’t stop—”

“Slow down, Darcy,” Bucky’s hands went to her shoulders as he steered her backwards so he could step out of his apartment.

“I’m going to be so fired. Jane will hate me and I’m going to be poor again and the sprinklers won’t stop.”

“The sprinklers set off in Foster’s lab?” Bucky’s voice was exceedingly patient, and the calm in his eyes settled Darcy’s panic enough to finally give him a real explanation.

“Yes, I—I go in the lab every day to check the data, make sure the machines are working right—a-and I went in today like I always do and my shoulder brushed against the control panel,” the doors to the elevator slid open and Darcy led the way to Jane’s lab, “and then the sprinklers started even though there’s no fire or smoke and it won’t stop and all of Jane’s equipment has to be ruined now and it’s all my fault.”

Bucky said nothing as they entered the lab together. Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he took in the scene, and Darcy whimpered before running to the machine doing the most data collection and throwing her body over it to stop the water from seeping further into its mechanics. She twisted her head to see what Bucky would do.

His plan of action, apparently, was to take one final look at the room, then turn to the control panel and smash his metal fist into it.

The sprinklers puttered out as did the lights. Within seconds the water was cut off entirely and silence filled the room.

Bucky’s eyes connected with hers, and Darcy swallowed thickly.

“You…you…” Darcy peeled herself off the machine and drew closer to him, her shoes squelching loudly against the tile. She stared up at him in awe. “You just…smashed.”

Bucky stared at her for a moment. “You should call maintenance.”

Darcy glanced dazedly at the phone still in her hand. The screen was wet and Darcy wiped it on her thigh before dialing quickly.

**-:-**

The girl was shivering.

She didn’t seem to notice, absorbed in what the technician was doing and saying as he clucked his tongue and shook his head repeatedly. Bucky narrowed his eyes at the guy when he turned to Darcy again.

“Should’ve called us first,” he said for the third time since he got to the lab. Darcy flinched again and nodding miserably.

Bucky crossed his arms. “Can it be fixed?”

Technician shrugged. “We can clean this up and run some diagnostics on the tech. Can’t guarantee all of it will be salvaged,” Darcy curled in on herself even more, and Bucky’s eyes flickered to her, “but we’ll let you know by tomorrow morning.”

The rest of the crew arrived a minute later, muttering amongst themselves on the best plan of action. Darcy stood still, staring at the lab with unseeing eyes, before slowly turning around and walking out.

Bucky found her leaning against the wall staring blankly at her phone. “Gonna catch a cold like this,” he said quietly.

Darcy sniffed. “I don’t deserve good health anyway,” she said glumly. “I have to call Jane and tell her what happened.”

When a shiver ran through her, Bucky became relentless. “Change first. Come on,” Bucky pried her away from the wall led them to the elevator, his hand firm on her bicep when she dug in her heels and whined. “Quit your moaning,” he ushered them inside the elevator and hit their floor button.

“I’m dead. I’m so dead. Jane’s never going to forgive this one.”

“You’re not going to die, and I’m sure she’ll understand. It wasn’t exactly your fault.”

“She’ll understand, but she’ll never forgive it. You don’t know her. I ate the last poptart once and she didn’t speak to me for two weeks. Do you know how hard it is to ignore someone who works with you, every single day? Jane did it.”

Darcy’s apartment door was thrown wide open when Bucky steered her towards it. He looked at it suspiciously but Darcy walked right in without hesitation.

When he didn’t walk in, Darcy turned back to look at him. “What?”

Bucky cleared his throat. “Can I…I mean, is it okay if…?”

Darcy’s brows knitted together. “Yeah, of course. Get in here.”

She disappeared into her bedroom as Bucky crossed the threshold, quietly closing the door behind him. His eyes flitted over the apartment, taking in the soft furnishings and the identical layout of the place to his own apartment. He was just getting around to the sofa when he saw his blanket from the common area strewn across the cushions. A thick green book poked out from the edge of the blanket.

Bucky’s fingers curled over the fabric and pulled it away to stare at the book. He smirked.

Darcy reentered the living room and caught him staring at the blanket. “You like?”

Bucky glanced up at her, a wry smile tugging the corners of his lips. “That’s my blanket. And my book.”

Darcy hiked a brow, slowing to a stop until she stood before him. “Yours?”

“You got ‘em from the common room, right?” Darcy nodded slowly, and something about the curious spark in her eyes made Bucky’s tongue a shade more silver. “Was finally getting somewhere with the wizard kid before someone swiped all the damn books from the parlor.”

There. Darcy’s eyes went round and she grimaced. “Shit. You were reading them? I wondered why they were specially pulled out from the bookcase—dude, I’m so sorry. Take them, I already have the series on my tablet.” Despite Bucky’s protesting Darcy gathered and piled the books on the coffee table for him to take with him.

Darcy sighed, pulling out her phone again. “Time for the inevitable.”

Bucky watched silently as Darcy tapped on the screen a few times before pressing it against her ear.

“H-ey, Janey! I called you earlier.” Darcy feigned an overly cheerful voice. “How’s the snow treatin’ ya?”

There was silence on the line before Bucky heard a very clear, “ _What did you do?_ ”

Darcy laughed nervously. “So, there was a thing that happened…”

Bucky stood for a solid minute watching the myriad of expressions cross the young woman’s face—anticipation, frustration, regret, and resignation.

Darcy was rapidly fading in her responses, biting her lip as the woman on the other end of the line went off in fear and worry. “Yeah, I know…”

Bucky had enough. Snatching the phone from Darcy’s hand and ignoring the gobsmacked look she gave him, Bucky held the phone to his ear. “Foster. This is Barnes.”

Jane seemed to have frozen in response, the words she’d been laying on Darcy now lost. “ _Um._ ”

“There was a malfunction in the circuitry. Not Lewis’s fault. She acted efficiently to find a solution. You should appreciate your assistant for her quick response.”

“ _R-right…I do appreciate her, of course…_ ”

Bucky lowered his voice. “Then there’s nothing left to discuss. Dismissed.”

Bucky handed the phone back to Darcy, who needed a few seconds to blink a few times and then take the phone back, pressing it against her sternum.

“That should settle it,” Bucky said a little awkwardly when Darcy made no move to speak.

Darcy blinked. Then cracked a slow grin. “You went Winter Soldier on Jane.”

Bucky reeled back. “I didn’t.”

“You totally did. I just witnessed it. You went Winter Soldier on my boss’s ass and saved the day.” Her eyes dipped down from his arm to his waist. “Got any other moves? Maybe in that leather belt of yours?”

Bucky didn’t know if he liked the way she was looking at him, and it made him feel very, uncomfortably warm.

“I’ll—I’ll be taking these,” Bucky grabbed the stack of books off the coffee table. Darcy tilted her head and Bucky swallowed thickly at the curious little way her tongue was sliding over her bottom lip. Needing to look away, Bucky glanced at his—well, not _technically_ his but he had more ownership over it than she did—blanket still strewn on her sofa. But as Bucky’s fingers reached for them Darcy’s hand smoothed over the back of his hand, sliding up to lightly encircle his wrist.

“Ah-ah,” Darcy shook her head deliberately. “Not on your life, Barnes. You want that, you’re gonna have to wrestle me for it. And fair warning, I’ve been working the guns out.”

Bucky’s mind short-circuited before promptly going blank; a subliminal image of Darcy wriggling against him, breathless and clinging to his body flashed through his mind.

Rasping out a goodbye, Bucky ducked out of the room and nearly ran back to his apartment.

**-:-**

**Dec. 23**

**-:-**

He didn’t expect to see her while in the gym. Not walking in, glancing at him as he curled a forty pound dumbbell and flashing a pretty smile, before heading to the weight rack.

His surprise must have shown on his face for Darcy glanced back and smiled again. “Sorry, I’ll be out of your hair soon. Just wanted to get the lighter weights.” Darcy wiggled the multicolored dumbbells. “Hardcore yoga. Our little run the other day has inspired me to get back into some kind of shape that’s not a formless lump, even if that lump is pretty bangin’ as is.”

He barely glanced at the dumbbells, too distracted by the workout attire she was sporting. It was…fitting.

Bucky realized he was gaping and promptly shut his mouth. “Good. That’s…good.”

Darcy’s smile wavered, and she looked at him unsurely. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to distract you.”

Bucky shook his head, forcing himself to clear his head and get some real words out of his goddamn mouth. “Nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart.”

Darcy’s eyes flared and she hid a smile with a shy press of her lips, and it made Bucky do much of the same—it made him do a lot more. “What’re you baking today?”

Darcy paused just as she was turning to leave and stared at him for a moment, as if trying to assess something. Bucky struggled not to shift under the piercing blue gaze. Just as quickly Darcy’s whole demeanor relaxed and she smiled brightly. “I was thinking madeleines and tiramisu? And maybe _Nightmare Before Christmas_ in the background. Have you seen it yet?”

He didn’t miss the way she phrased the question, as if already expecting him not to be familiar with it and accepting the fact. “Can’t say I have,” said Bucky with a slight shrug.

Darcy hesitated, balancing the weights lightly in her hands. “You could…could come and watch it with me. While I bake. If you want,” Darcy gave an unaffected shrug, not meeting his eyes. “You don’t have to.”

“I’ll come,” Bucky said quickly, and Darcy’s eyes lit up.

“Okay! Cool. I usually start around four-thirty,” Darcy gave a final smile before backing out of the gym. Once she was gone, Bucky threw down the dumbbell and sagged against the weight rack.

**-:-**

Darcy tried not to be too stung when Bucky didn’t show.

Not even the tantalizing scent of baked goods permeating from the communal kitchen drew a peep. And considering it was what led to their introduction, Darcy was kind of banking on it.

It felt odd, and a little bit embarrassing to her own self when her gaze flickered every so often to the door, as if expecting it to open. Every slight noise made her perk up, before sagging against the sofa again.

She sighed when the credits rolled and she shut off the television. before heading back to her room. It was probably too much for Darcy to expect more, considering they hardly knew each other. And this was Bucky Barnes—the man had enough things to sort out on his own than to spend time with a random lab tech over the holidays.

Rolling her stiff shoulders, Darcy grabbed her laptop and curled up in bed.

**-:-**

**Dec. 24 – Christmas Eve**

**-:-**

Bucky opened his eyes and the first thing he did was groan.

Sunlight filtered through the window. He was three hours off schedule already. Bucky threw the blanket off his legs and sat up, rolling his left arm automatically as it recalibrated.

Last night. Damn it all to hell.

What had started as a good day—a prospective, compelling day with the promise of possibly good company and dessert—ended in a spiraling decay of darkness and rage.

Bucky closed his eyes at the memories flickering in his mind, the regression he felt during the therapy session—he’d been so good, he’d been doing so well, he was down to one session a week now, but one memory—one goddamn fucking memory reawakened in the span of two hours obliterated the careful control he’d been trying to build, and it threw him right back to square one.

It had exhausted him, the mental and emotional turmoil still raw under his skin, and he had stumbled from the office and to his room much later than he usually would have. Bucky hadn’t even bothered chucking off his jeans before collapsing on his mattress in a heap and falling dead to the world.

Now, with morning fully in stride and the night before tucked away in the vault that was Bucky’s mind, the realization that he might’ve kind of fucked up something barely on its legs—something he didn’t know _why_ he wanted to pursue, only that it was the first time in decades he wanted of his own volition, left Bucky feeling…unpleasant.

“Aw, hell.”

**-:-**

Darcy Lewis, hands on her hips and glaring at the storage closet, had a plan.

The plan was made more difficult by her short stature, and a suspicious lack of ladders.

It also didn’t escape her notice how there was a single feather-tipped arrow hanging from one of the branches. How Clint managed to pull this mere hours before leaving for Vermont impressed more than annoyed Darcy at this point. Only Jane knew of Darcy’s last minute plan change.

“The hard way, then,” Darcy rolled up her sleeves and began to climb the shelves.

Two bumped elbows and several sure-to-form bruises later, Darcy strode into the common room with an armful of plastic tree and decorations—one of several, the rest of which still sat waiting in boxes for Darcy to collect.

She did not notice a pair of eyes watching her from the sofa.

She did not notice the owner of the eyes lying across said sofa.

She definitely did not notice the owner of the lingering eyes carefully lowering his book on his lap.

“HA!” Darcy looked at her handiwork with pride. The tree was now tucked into the corner of the common room, still lopsided and needing proper assembling, but very much in the spirit of what Darcy was planning for. “Clint, Clint…you fucker. Height is no evil to me.”

Satisfied, Darcy turned to grab the rest of the decorations when she saw Bucky sitting on the sofa. She couldn’t help the undignified squawk that left her throat.

“Jesus, Barnes. We need to strap a bell to your sweaters.” At Bucky’s unresponsive stare, Darcy ran a hand through her hair to steady herself. “Glad to see you around again.”

This brought a response. Bucky flinched, then set the book on the coffee table before standing.

“Hey, whoa, it’s all good. The tiramisu’s still in the fridge but I ate all the madeleines. Don’t leave on my account. I swear the filter in my mouth works most of the time but it’s clearly taking a vacation this week too…” Darcy trailed when he slowly approached the dilapidated tree, reaching out with his right hand to trail against the plastic fibers.

“This tree yours?”

“Hm? Oh, no,” Darcy shook her head as she observed the tree next to him. “This is Tony’s. It was in the storage closet—they use the same tree each year, plastic ones. Personally I’m a traditional girl but finding an actual Christmas tree this late in the game, on my own…” Darcy trailed again when Bucky turned to her.

“Get dressed.”

“I am dressed?”

“For outside. Ten minutes.” Bucky gave one last lingering look before turning around and heading out of the common room.

Darcy blinked several times before catching up with him in the hallway.

“Dressed? Dressed for where? Are we going somewhere? It’s going to be hectic, dude. I’m telling you, the city this late in the game, it’s not pretty. Last year we went to see the giant tree they put up every year near the skating rink and it was awful. Sure, the light show was cool, but not being able to move more than two inches every few minutes really—”

They reached Bucky’s apartment and he gave her a bewildered look when she followed him up to the door, not realizing where she was and thoroughly distracted by her own tirade.

“—and it’s cold. Like, I don’t know if you remember, but half the reason I didn’t go on the trip to Vermont is precisely because shitty cold temperatures don’t agree with me. Or my skin. Or—”

To say Darcy was surprised when Bucky grabbed her shoulders and literally _shoved_ her to her door was an understatement. Darcy gaped up at him, too shocked for indignation, and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Just get dressed.”

Scrunching her face, Darcy slipped inside her apartment.

**-:-**

He wasn’t sure why he did it. Bucky Barnes was many things—soldier, ex-assassin, sniper, mentor, kickass at Smash Brothers—but spontaneous was one he hadn’t been since before the war.

He didn’t know what compelled it—was it the shitty tree? It was an awful fucking tree. Bucky learned many things of the twenty-first century but some things still knocked him off his feet. A plastic tree for Christmas? His Ma, bless her if she were still alive, would rap Bucky ‘round the ears for even considering something so heinous. Plastic trees weren’t anything Bucky had ever even _heard_ of until Darcy dragged the monstrosity into the common room with an air of such complete satisfaction.

It made Bucky shudder.

It might’ve been the tree. It was a terrible tree. It might’ve also been the brunette who had brought in the tree. Guilt still curled up inside of him for having stood her up, and he wanted—needed—to clear that away at once.

Part of Bucky scoffed that he didn’t _need_ to explain anything to anyone. Wasn’t like he was sweet on her…Bucky swallowed…wasn’t—wasn’t like he really even knew the girl. Workplace proximity associates. That’s what they were.

But rationalizing this was beyond hope, because in the end none of it mattered—he’d taken one look at Darcy and found himself formulating a plan, and then made sure she would be a part of it.

His confidence that he’d made the right decision flared brightly when Darcy had come out of her apartment, dressed in heavy layers, and took in the axe in his hand with a raised brow and a wide grin (he didn’t struggle to breathe for a second…definitely not).

“Alright, lumberjack. I’m seeing where you’re going with this now and I, for one, am all in.”

Bucky smiled and led them to the garage. Darcy frowned.

“The tree vendors are just a few blocks away. Not worth the drive, my guy.”

“We’re not going there,” said Bucky as he drew them towards an SUV and unlocked it.

Darcy furrowed her brow in confusion. “Well…where then?”

**-:-**

“Okay…I know you’re one of those authentic types—I get it, I really do—but was driving to Jersey _really_ necessary?”

Bucky shrugged, hefting the axe more comfortably on his shoulder. “S’what me ‘n Steve used to do when we got our own place together.”

Darcy chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully as she shoved her hands in her pockets. The last thing Darcy had expected was tree hunting with Bucky when Darcy woke this morning, let alone crossing state lines to get the job done.

They wandered through a very beautiful and snow-laden farm with rows of trees ready for picking. Bucky had initially insisted on finding a random forest and be done with it that way, but after Darcy’s urging that they’d be breaking a shit ton of regulations and the last thing she needed was running another felony, she gently steered them to a tree farm in Cedar Grove.

Bucky paused in front of a tree and Darcy paused next to him. Pursing her lips thoughtfully, Darcy noted, “It leans.”

Bucky nodded in silent agreement and moved on.

This happened a dozen more times, each tree coming up short in both their expectations. Darcy started dragging her feet when an hour ticked by and the sun was threatening to set very soon.

“Bucky, just pick one,” Darcy pleaded. The stubborn set of his brows made Darcy’s jaw tick. “Okay, here.” Wrapping her hand around his arm, Darcy pulled him through the rows, glancing at the trees absently before stopping in front of a modest looking one. “This. We’re getting this one. Good?”

Bucky tilted his head in thought. Then, with a slight nod, “Yes. This one’s good.”

Smothering a sigh of relief, Darcy held out her hand for the axe. “Can I get first cut?”

Bucky held the axe out to her and Darcy winked before wringing the axe in her hand. Once Bucky had stepped aside to give her an exaggeratedly wide berth, Darcy narrowed her eyes at the base of the tree and swung hard.

“Not bad,” said Bucky, impressed. Darcy yanked the axe out and beamed up at Bucky.

“Right? That went better than I thought it would, honestly.”

Bucky stared at her for a long moment, enough that Darcy wondered if she’d said something that might’ve set him off, but Bucky put those question to rest quickly.

“About last night.” Bucky took the axe and let it gently sway in his hands. “It was a bad day for me. I fell asleep to work through it and overslept. Wasn’t…wasn’t personal or nothing.”

Darcy’s mouth parted in surprise, watching as Bucky fidgeted and didn’t meet her eyes. He motioned for her to step back and she did, and Bucky swung the axe to start cutting down the tree.

“It’s alright,” said Darcy, finally. “No, honest. It’s…we come first, you know?” At Bucky’s strange look, Darcy continued. “If I had something off happen to me, I would’ve skipped the baking too. We have to take care of ourselves first, you know? That’s the priority.”

She was uncertain, for the hundredth time since their interactions started, that she had said something that came across wrong, that she should shake her head and save face before she made things worse.

But when Bucky looked at her—really, truly looked at her, as if he could see through her soul laid bare before him, picking every truth from her eyes, and then _smiled_ —Darcy suspected this would be the start of something more.

**-:-**

“You know…I haven’t done this in nearly a century.”

Darcy paused to look up at him from the string of lights she was trying to untangle, her hands going still as she gave him a soft smile. “Yeah?”

Bucky nodded. He opened his mouth but closed it before he could say anything, taking a moment to stare up at the tree.

“How’s it living up to you?” she asked him.

Bucky turned away from the tree to look at Darcy. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, still unwinding the lights with a pursed frown. The common room was warm and it smelled of the pumpkin cookies that Darcy baked for them while Bucky carried and set up the tree.

“It feels right.”

**-:-**

**Dec. 25 – Christmas Day**

**-:-**

“No.”

Bucky started in surprise. The handheld mixer in Darcy’s hand had gone silent as she glared at the offending bags in Bucky’s hands.

Bucky glanced down at them before frowning at her in confusion. “It’s just takeout.”

Bucky watched, alarmed, as Darcy carefully set down the mixer and wiped her hands on her apron. “I thought I’d do something for once,” Bucky weakly attempted to break Darcy from her stony silence, and slowly backed away when Darcy walked around the kitchen island to stop before him. “You’re always baking, and I figured—do something nice—I didn’t mean to…”

Bucky let his grip loosen on the bags when Darcy gently took them from him, and put them straight in the fridge before turning back to him.

Darcy looked him in the eye. “Bucky. This was really, very sweet of you and I love you for it.” Bucky swallowed hard, his heart thudding abnormally. “But we’re doing this the traditional way. You’re gonna love it.”

For a while all Bucky could do was stare into Darcy’s eyes, getting lost in the ice blue with flecks of green and the sincerity reflecting back at him. He blinked a few times before replying quietly, “Yeah. Okay.”

Darcy beamed up at him and then whirled around, returning to the island. “Want to help with the string beans?”

**-:-**

“So Stevie goes, ‘Aw shucks, ma’am',” Bucky pouted his lower lip and batted his lashes while scratching the back of his head, and Darcy threw her head back and laughed so hard she nearly dropped the dinner plate in her lap, “‘if I’da known it’d be such an inconvenience, I woulda told my Ma to give you a week’s notice!’ Poor Mrs. Wittle didn’t stand a chance.”

“So did he get the discount?” Darcy asked curiously.

Bucky snorted. “Discount? He got the fabrics and the dresses _free of goddamn charge_.”

“Good for him,” Darcy said, impressed. “I wish I knew him then. He sounds like a terror, I love it.”

“Oh no,” Bucky gave her a dark look as he shook his head emphatically. “Had enough trouble keeping an eye on him as it was. If you were there too I’d lose my mind. You’re worse than Steve.”

“How?!” Darcy gave him a mock-outraged look as she vengefully stabbed a piece of glazed ham with her fork.

“You nearly put an axe through that kid at the farm last night.”

“He was trying to make off with our tree when we weren’t looking!”

“He was offering to tie it up and you know it.”

Darcy sniffed indifferently. “How would I know? We worked hard for this tree. Our sweat and blood went into this tree.”

“There was no blood…”

“It’s a magnificent tree, Bucky Barnes. I’m making a point to throwing all the plastic ones Tony’ll stock up all the Christmases to come.”

Bucky smiled a little, just barely there but unmistakably curling up the corners of his lips with a soft look in the way he looked at her. It made Darcy’s stomach do a very odd thing, a feeling she was still too nervous to place but felt a thrill all the same.

Bucky averted his gaze and stared down at the plate in his lap before pushing it away. “I’m calling it. Can’t eat another bite.”

“What? Already?” Darcy gestured to the coffee table crammed with all the food Darcy and Bucky made for their Christmas dinner. “You haven’t even tried dessert! I made three different kinds of pie, Bucky! Plum, your favorite!”

“I know doll, I’m sorry. Give me a half hour to digest a bit and I’ll give ‘em all a go.”

Darcy’s pout lingered and Bucky laughed, and he reached over to tickle under her chin. “Don’t be sour. There’s no way I’d miss my best girl’s bakes.”

Darcy looked at him in surprise before a teasing smile tugged at her lips. “Your best girl, huh?”

“You know what I mean,” Bucky said gruffly, setting his plate on the coffee table and studiously ignoring her gaze.

Unable to resist, Darcy continued with a wry smile, “Who did I beat out on the list? If I’m the best girl then there’s other girls who just couldn’t make the cut.”

And Bucky, whether he meant to say it out loud or not, replied, “No other girl on a list but you, sweetheart.”

The smile slipped from her lips, and Bucky was looking at her in equal parts nerves and…and….

“Want to start _Home Alone_ now?” Darcy asked suddenly.

“Yes,” Bucky said quickly, the tension in the room was relieved and, for a while, carefully ignored.

**-:-**

**???**

**-:-**

The days were no longer singular, separate, but a fluid blend of where Bucky started and Darcy ended.

Darcy didn’t actually understand how it happened, and she knew Bucky felt much of the same. Neither questioned it, and it stayed that way.

In the mornings Bucky dragged—sometimes literally—Darcy from her bed to run with him. Darcy and Bucky alternated making breakfast, until Darcy handed over the duties entirely to Bucky because god, the man could do a mean breakfast.

Despite Christmas having come and gone Darcy continued baking something novel each day to keep herself occupied. Sometimes Bucky helped. Mostly he stole her ingredients and licked the batter off the spoon when she wasn’t looking.

“You’re a _riot_ ,” Darcy tried and failed not to grin when Bucky gave her an innocent look. “And you say Steve was the troublemaker?” Bucky smiled serenely. “ _Bucky_. I can’t do the thing for a pavlova if you don’t give me the cream of tartar.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky answered with a shrug. The feigned innocence cracked when Darcy put her hands on her hips and conjured her best _I’m serious_ glare. “Hm. Come to think of it. I might know where you could find it.”

“Oh?”

“Mm,” Bucky hummed, folding his arms over the counter with a thoughtful look. “But it’ll cost you.”

Darcy raised a brow. “Already paid for it, Bucko. That’s how it got in this kitchen.”

“Tax, then.”

Darcy suppressed a sigh and looked at him indulgently. “Alright, what is it this time? Lick the bowl? All the bowls from here on out? If you get salmonella don’t blame me.”

“Ain’t licking no bowls,” Bucky said somewhat defensively. “I’m old as shit but I know better than that.”

“Riiight,” Darcy smirked.

Something sharp clicked behind Bucky’s eyes and an eerie smile settled over his lips. “Was just informed of the price.”

Darcy quirked a brow, waiting. Bucky turned his jaw a bit and tapped a metal finger against his cheek.

Darcy’s instinctive reaction was to freeze up as she imagined it, doing it. It took a slow inhale to effort an unaffected look at Bucky, who looked at her like he’d won this round, counting on her forfeit.

“Pretty cheap price if you ask me,” Darcy said, ignoring Bucky’s mock outrage and marching around the island until she stopped in front of his knees. He was looking at her strangely now, and his mouth parted to say something—before he could get a word out, Darcy pressed her hands against Bucky’s shoulders and leaned down to give a firm, lingering kiss to his cheek.

Pulling back, Darcy held her hand out.

Bucky blinked, staring at her for a moment. Then, with a quirk of his mouth, “Never said only one, doll.”

“Oh for goodness sake—” Darcy grabbed his head and kissed his other cheek, his forehead, peppering down to his left cheek again before pulling back, digging into his right pocket, and taking the little bottle of powder from him. Her face heated when Bucky watched her with his pupils blown wide, crimson lips that seemed to be permanently pouting parted. “I win,” Darcy said with a false smile and scuttled back to her station, deftly measuring out a bit of the cream of tartar.

That dinner on the sofa in front of the T.V. was the first time Bucky sat close to her, and surreptitiously draped an arm around her shoulders.

**-:-**

It was during a _Harry Potter_ marathon that the screen suddenly flickered. A dial tone sounded in the air and the imaged switched to a full view of Tony Stark himself.

“Hey losers, you ever heard of answering your phone? Do you know how annoying it is to restart Friday hundreds of miles away just to figure out where you two—what the hell is this?”

The hell Tony spoke of was something like this.

Bucky was lying against the sofa armrest, his calves resting on Darcy’s lap as she used his shins to prop up her laptop. It was effortless and not foreign to them the way Tony was staring. Darcy exchanged a glance with Bucky before turning to the T.V. screen.

“Excuse you. We were in the middle of watching something.”

“Uh huh.” Tony stared at them a moment longer. “Well. Just called to tell you the livestream starts today, Stark Channel access only.”

Bucky made no move to respond. Darcy replied slowly. “Oh…cool. Okay, we’ll make sure to watch. You guys having fun?”

“We are indeed, short stack. Would be more fun if you were here. Nobody is nearly as hammered and no pants have been suspiciously pulled down.”

A snort came from Bucky but still he said nothing. Suddenly Sam came into view, slinging an arm around Tony with a wide grin.

“Well, well. Lewis.”

“Wilson.”

“Should be here, Darcy. Thor’s looking a bit lonely here…”

Darcy’s stiffened, and Bucky slowly turned his eyes away from the screen to Darcy.

“You really want to go there? Wade?” Darcy shot back with a smirk.

“Aye! What’d I say about mentioning that?” Sam glared darkly at her.

“You keep your mouth shut and I’ll keep mine too,” Darcy smiled at him sweetly.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky you’re pretty when you bat those lashes, Lewis. If Cap tried that on me I’d probably sock him in the jaw.”

Darcy had to grab her laptop when Bucky slid his legs off of her lap. Giving him an odd look, Darcy turned distractedly back to the screen when Sam and Tony bid them goodbye. “Yeah, bye.”

The screen flickered back to _Harry Potter_ , picking up where they left off before the video call interrupted. Darcy was halfway through editing one of Jane’s notes when Bucky said, “So, you and Wilson, huh?”

Darcy glanced at him. “Me and Wilson what?”

“Nothin’. Just, didn’t know about it is all. He’s a good guy.”

Darcy shook her head, confusion written clear on her face. “I’m not following. Know about what?” When Bucky studiously kept his eyes glued to the screen, Darcy knit her brows together in thought. “Wait, are you—? You think I’m with…?” Bucky’s quick glance answered it, and Darcy let out a startled laugh. “Oh my god. No. That would be so weird.”

Bucky finally looked at her; she could see the questions swirling in the back of his head, waiting to burst. “Really?” Darcy shook her head. “Why would it be weird?”

Darcy scrunched up her face. “I don’t know. It’s Sam. He’s like… _Sam_.”

Bucky chuckled. “What’s _Sam_ got to do with Sam?”

Darcy smiled, shrugging. “I just…don’t see him that way? It would be so weird. Like making out with a sibling. All the Avengers are just a huge bucket of weirdo siblings I never had.”

She knew the moment Bucky went still, his breath exhaling a little louder than it normally would. A slight slip in control.

“That’s what you think of us as? Siblings?”

Bucky was watching her and she knew this was something important, what she said now would mean something different. With a lick of her lips, Darcy shrugged a shoulder. “Well, almost. I don’t think you’re part of the sibling gene pool.” She swallowed thickly when his eyes flared. “I mean, we only met a week ago.”

Bucky eyes widened and he broke their gaze. Her words sank into the two of them, rattling in her mind until Bucky broke the silence.

“Right. We hardly know each other.”

**-:-**

**Dec. 31 – New Year’s Eve**

**-:-**

Something was changing. Rapidly. And it was scaring the shit out Bucky.

Hastily he pulled on his thermal and dug out the gloves from his other jacket, hands shaking only a little. Things were changing and he had no control over it. He didn’t even want control over it, he just wanted—

Bucky closed his eyes tightly. None of it made sense to him, except this was different and it was…good.

Unknown to both of them, they’d shifted their daily routines to include each other. Morning jog. Early breakfast. Leaving the Tower for some air and Darcy showing Bucky the best places to eat, the variety of food from different cultures and little shops that Bucky always felt himself unwinding in. Sitting in the common area, dinner heavy in their bellies and a new movie Darcy selected, his hand more often than not idly threading in her hair. Her shoulder resting against Bucky’s, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, her waist, and her fingers playing with his metal ones. It was symbiotic.

 It felt _good_.

Bucky swallowed hard. For fuck’s sake. He hadn’t been dizzy over a girl since 1941. Jesus, he had no game. The dance was the same but Bucky was changed, words he wanted to say always getting stuck in his throat the second Darcy turned her big blue eyes towards his.

The conversation a few days ago had both relieved and alarmed him. Relieved to have it confirmed she wasn’t exactly seeing anyone. Relieved she didn’t see him as a brother figure—Bucky hadn’t passed out cold in months now but Bucky wasn’t sure he’d last long if he found out she saw him as _that_.

Bucky had been alarmed, however, that Darcy felt she didn’t know him well enough to formulate any kind of opinion about him, friendly or otherwise.

But was that really what she meant? Her words had racked through Bucky’s brain the rest of the day and all through the night, and still he had nothing. He just didn’t goddamn know.

Shaking his head, Bucky pulled on a knitted hat and strode out his apartment straight to Darcy’s. He knocked twice, leaning against the doorjamb.

When no answer came, he called, “Darce?”

He turned the knob and opened the door, remembering Darcy kept her room perpetually unlocked (“what’s the point of living on a floor of Avengers if I can’t feel safe enough to leave the door unlocked?”), and slowly stepped inside.

He didn’t hear the shower and she wasn’t in the living room. This was wrong. Darcy was an early riser and she was always ready the same time he was. Gritting his teeth, Bucky strode to the bedroom.

Yeah, he…miscalculated.

Darcy, hair wet and falling down her bare shoulders, stood in front of her dresser wearing nothing but a towel that left Bucky’s mouth dry and his imagination with little room to guess.

Their eyes connected through the dressing mirror and Darcy yelped. “Bucky! I’m not ready yet!”

Bucky knew this would be a good time to turn around and flee with an apology hot on his lips, but his feet were rooted to the spot. His eyes followed her when she crossed the room to stand in front of him. Suddenly Darcy was pushing against his shoulders and herding him out of the room.

Just as he crossed the threshold into the living room Bucky’s hands came up to circle around her wrists. He heard her inhale sharply, staring up at him uncertainly.

He didn’t know why he did it, but he knew his fingers were moving on their own, testing. Willing for something. His grasp loose, Bucky’s thumbs drew a gentle circle along the inside of her wrist before stopping at her pulse point. Darcy drew a ragged breath and Bucky watched, enthralled, when her eyes darkened.

“I…I’m going to get changed,” said Darcy, her voice a little breathless. She made no move to step away, still staring up at him as if waiting for something.

Bucky nodded slowly and gently dropped her wrists. Darcy stumbled a bit as she backed away, then closed the bedroom door quickly.

**-:-**

“C’mon, doll. You can do it.”

“Can’t. Eyes dead. Food coma activated.”

Darcy heard Bucky snort before feeling a sharp poke on her shoulder. “Hey!” Darcy opened her eyes to glare at Bucky, who held up his hands.

“Just doing what you told me to do, Darce. Use any means necessary to stay awake and watch the ball drop.”

“That Darcy was an idiot. _Sleeeep_. Sleep is good.” Darcy shuffled closer until she’d tucked herself firmly into the crook of Bucky’s arm, his hand coming automatically to rest on her waist and pull her closer.

“You only got a half hour left, doll. You can do this,” Bucky jostled her gently. “C’mon, doll.”

Darcy opened her eyes blearily and looked up at him. “Have I told you how absolutely charming I find the names you call me?”

Bucky’s smiled brightly down at her as his fingers flexed against her hip. “You do?”

“Mhm. Only you, though. Steve says stuff like that sometimes but it doesn’t feel the same. Doesn’t feel right like when you do it.” Warmth crept up Darcy’s cheeks when Bucky stared at her, a softness in the way he looked at her.

“If that’s what you feel, Darcy, I’ll call you doll every single day of my life.”

Darcy swallowed thickly and smiled. “God, you’re too much. I’ll be right back,” Darcy wriggled out of his grip and off the sofa, darting to the bathroom.

Making sure the water from the sink was running, Darcy hastily pulled out her phone and dialed Jane’s number.

Jane picked up within three rings. “Darcy! How’s—”

“I think I’m going to sleep with Bucky.”

“What!” Jane’s voice went shrill over the phone. “Darcy—what!”

Darcy sighed, nodding. “You’re right. I don’t _think_ I’m going to sleep with him. I know I am. Not today, not in six months, but there will be a day when his parts are going to be doing things to my parts and I can’t get it out of my head, Jane. He’s so fucking charming.”

“You’re want to have sex with Bucky because he’s charming?”

“Yes? I mean there’s more to it than that, obviously.” Darcy squeezed her eyes shut and pressed a hand to her forehead. “God, how did I even get here? How is this a thing I’m considering? And I would normally say I don’t have a chance, that the guys I like usually don’t feel the same way I do but—but sometimes…sometimes he looks at me, Jane. And I’m not crazy. I know what this look means. I know he feels what I’m feeling to some degree. Maybe not at the sex part yet, but…”

“But…how? I know Bucky’s really nice, I’ve met him a few times and he’s a good guy. Quiet, and good. I just don’t…really get it. He doesn’t seem like someone easy to get to know.”

“You just have to let him do it on his own terms. He’s—he’s so great, Jane. He’s ridiculously funny. The shit he says…I must’ve cracked a rib by now, he makes me laugh so much. I think I do too, for him. And he’s so smart, he really _listens_ , you know? And he—and he gets it, he really gets things and he treats me like anybody else and…”

“You really like him,” Jane’s voice is neither shocked nor disbelieving, but said it as a fact, a solid confirmation for what Darcy was feeling.

“Yes,” Darcy pursed her lips. “I really do. I just don’t want to fuck it up by doing something stupid.”

“You won’t fuck it up. Darcy, listen. You won’t,” Jane repeated, and Darcy leaned heavily against the tiled wall. “You two like each other. Run with that. It won’t be weird if you just follow your instinct. Look at me and Thor. We literally knew each other for three days before we got together.” Darcy snorted. “Sometimes you just have to follow your heart than what your brain keeps shouting at you.”

“Big words for an astrophysicist,” Darcy teased, and Jane scoffed over the line.

“Again, the tone of surprise…”

“Thanks, Jane.”

Darcy walked back into the living room and plopped down on the sofa. “What’d I miss?”

Bucky slung an arm around her and replied, “Kathy made another crass joke and Anderson tried getting past it before he got in a fit of giggles. It sounded very pleasant,” he noted mildly, as if surprised with himself.

“It’s cute, right? Oh shit, they’re about to start the countdown,” Darcy hastily reached for the silly hat and giant sequin paper glasses and handed him a set. Reluctantly he took them.

“Do we have to?”

“Yes,” Darcy said firmly. “It is tradition. We do all the traditions under my roof.”

“Technically it’s Tony’s…”

“Semantics,” Darcy waved away his words and jammed the silly hat on her head before putting the paper glasses on her nose. She waited expectantly for Bucky to do the same; with an exaggerated sigh, Bucky pulled them on as well.

Nodding in approval, Darcy handed him the party horn and jumped up to stand before the T.V. They had already started counting down, “Ten—nine—eight—seven—“

Bucky flashed her a grin and Darcy grinned back, linking their arms together before turning back to the screen.

“Five—four—three—two—ONE!”

Bucky watched in amazement as the ball dropped slowly to the end and fireworks exploded on the screen, then laughed with Darcy as they blew the party horn until they ran out of breath. Darcy heard the cracking outside and darted to the window, pressing against it and feeling Bucky come up behind her.

“S’beautiful,” Bucky breathed, and Darcy nodded faintly.

Pulling off the hat and glasses, they sauntered back to the television. When he saw the footage on the screen, Bucky frowned. “Why are so many folks kissing?”

Darcy glanced at the screen. “Oh! It’s like, a tradition in the U.S. to kiss on the New Year, once the ball drops and the clock strikes twelve.”

Bucky stared at the screen distantly. “Tradition?”

Darcy realized what he meant, and exhaled a little shakily. “You don’t…we don’t have to. It’s okay if we don’t, if it’s uncomfortable…” she hated for saying the words; there was nothing more she wanted right now than to lay a solid one on him, but it was true. She didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable the slightest bit.

“Huh.” Bucky’s eyes slid to hers, and she shivered at the heated gaze he gave her. “Tradition is tradition, doll.”

Darcy blinked. Then said slowly, “That is true.”

She didn’t know who moved first. She felt his breath fan her face, then her lips. Darcy’s eyes darted up to meet his, just for a moment, and the way he was looking at her closed the distance between them as she pressed her lips against his.

It was warm, and soft, softer than Darcy could have ever imagined. His lips moved slowly over hers as he breathed her in, her hands coming up to rest on Bucky’s shoulders as his hands fell on her waist.

It lasted only a few seconds before they pulled away. Foreheads touching, Darcy didn’t move away or drop her hands. Neither did Bucky.

“So,” said Darcy unsteadily. “Happy New Year.”

Bucky nodded against her forehead. “Happy New Year.” He paused, fingers digging into her sweater. “I’m going to kiss you again.”

“God yes, please,” Darcy sighed in relief before Bucky slid his mouth over hers. She moaned against his lips when he tilted his head and plucked at her lips, sliding her arms around his neck and anchoring herself up against him. Bucky’s arms tightened around her until all Darcy felt was him—his hands running up her back and sending shivers down her spine, his mouth hot against hers as he kissed her in a mix of sweet and filthy that made her toes curl.

Their kiss became frantic, as if it wasn’t enough and touching the way they were wasn’t enough; Bucky walked them backwards until Darcy’s legs hit the sofa and they tumbled onto it together, Bucky pressed over her.

Their lips slanted as Bucky’s fingers slipped under her sweater to stroke the soft flesh of her stomach, making the muscles there jump. Darcy swept her tongue against Bucky’s and he groaned loudly.

“God, Darcy,” Bucky panted, forehead resting against hers again. He peered down at her, taking in the flushed skin and swollen lips, her eyes dilated with want. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long. Wasn’t—was never sure if this was something you—” He swallowed, looking at her uncertainly. “Is it?”

A shaky laugh escaped her and Darcy bit her lip, smiling. “Yeah, I do. I really, really do. For so long.”

Bucky exhaled roughly, sweeping her hair from her face and off her neck. “If I weren’t in therapy for over a year, I swear I’d think this wasn’t real.”

“This is real,” Darcy pressed her hand against his jaw and he leaned into it, his eyes shuttering closed.

“Good,” Bucky said, opening his eyes again. The look Bucky gave Darcy sent a pleasant thrill through her and straight to her core. “There’s some things I’ve been meaning to do.”

“Yeah?” Darcy cocked a brow and flashed him a slow grin. “Those are big words, Barnes.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “You have no idea.”

He pressed another long, hard kiss that left Darcy gasping by the time they parted, writhing her hips as he pressed kisses down her jaw and then her neck, his hands fumbling with her leggings and panties in one hard tug.

“Straight for the kill, then?” Darcy’s breath hitched when Bucky sucked on her pulse point between her teeth until she knew it’d leave a mark in the morning.

“Can’t move the sweater,” Bucky mumbled against her skin. “‘M busy.”

“Right, right. I’ll just wait til you’re finished, then.”

It took all of Darcy’s willpower not to smile when Bucky reared back to give her a dry look. “Your fucking mouth. I tell you how much it drives me up a wall sometimes?”

“No, please, lay on the compliments,” Darcy gave him a withering look and Bucky laughed, and Darcy used his distraction to undo the drawstring of his sweatpants and tug his sweater up until he threw it off. He reached for Darcy’s sweater and tugged it off quickly before tracing his fingers over the fine lace edges of her bra.

“You expecting something special tonight, doll?” Darcy shivered at the low tenor of his voice, the slight teasing edge layered beneath it.

“Maybe. Was I right?”

“Hmm. Well first…” Bucky snapped off the bra and tossed it over the couch, leaving Darcy completely bare underneath him. “That had to go.” Bucky’s eyes slid down her body, his eyes darkening as if realizing the same thing she was; this was happening. She was naked and he was nearly naked and she felt the hardness of his length pressing against her thigh and this was happening.

The heated way he was staring at her made her shift against him and she pulled at his shoulders until he kissed her again. He didn’t stay long, dropping kisses down her chest, her breasts, making her pant when his tongue rolled around her nipple before grazing his teeth gently against it—her back arched and a whimper left her lips when his hand stroked her swollen flesh and finding the wetness already pooling there.

“Been thinking about this too,” Bucky kissed her inner thigh before pushing up her knees so they rested over his shoulders.

“You seem to be thinking a lot, recently,” Darcy managed to say when Bucky pressed the flat of his tongue up her slit. For several moments all she could do was breathe harshly as his fingers and mouth touched and teased her, rolling her hips against him.

“Fuck,” Darcy shivered when his tongue flicked her clit. He looked up at her, tongue moving gently but firmly until she was trembling against him. “ _Bucky_.” She felt him groan against her and sent a tingle up her spine.

He stopped teasing then, sliding his fingers inside her and moving his mouth insistently against her throbbing flesh—her hands grappled with the sofa cushions as her hips struggled against the unyielding grip of his metal arm holding her down. She was close, very close, so close—

Darcy whined in frustration when suddenly he pulled away, fingers slipping out. Bucky kissed her quickly, appeasingly, before sitting back. She watched him lick his lips and shrug out of his sweatpants and boxers, and Darcy pulled him closer until her knees cradled his waist.

“Darcy,” he said quietly, under the noise of the television that for some reason was still on, the faint white light flickering in and out over them. Darcy tangled her fingers in Bucky’s hair and kissed him soundly, licking into his mouth until he groaned and pushed inside her.

Panting and breathless, they waited a few moments before Bucky slowly pulled back before sinking into her. “God, Bucky,” Darcy sighed, grinning a little up at him, and Bucky grinned back, looking just as wrecked and in awe as she was. “We should’ve been doing this a billion years ago.”

“A billion years?” Bucky couldn’t stop the little laugh and he thrust in hard, making them both moan.

“Yeah…a billion,” Darcy gasped as their hips rolled together, hitting her deep inside as he thrust with slow, hard strokes. “It’s possible…I’ll explain later.”

“Love that about you. Love the things you say. That brain of yours is golden, doll.” His hips snapped hard into hers and Darcy cried out, all thought leaving her except _yes_ and _harder_ and _Bucky_.

Suddenly they were shifting, moving, until they were lying on their sides with Bucky pressed up against the sofa with his chest against Darcy’s back. He hiked up her leg, their legs scrambling together as he pushed inside again, their groans filling the common room. Her senses were overloaded with him moving inside her, holding her leg up with one arm and twisting his metal arm around her body until it rolled and teased her nipple, causing to shudder. “Bucky—oh god—” Darcy reached down to circle her clit in time with Bucky’s thrusts until she clamped down hard on him. Bucky moaned loudly, his hips slowing as Darcy’s body convulsed around him.

When her shivers died down she was aware of Bucky pressing soft kisses against her neck, and Darcy turned her face to brush her lips against his. “You’re so beautiful, Darcy,” he said against her lips, and Darcy smiled softly. She sighed when he started moving slowly again.

“Right…right back atcha. Beautiful Bucky…” Darcy’s eyes flew open when she felt Bucky’s fingers brush against her clit and sending tiny shivers all through her body, still raw from her release. Bucky seemed to realize this too, pausing only for a second to marvel at it before bringing his fingers to his mouth, then bringing them back down and circling insistently against her.

“Fuck— _fuck—_ Bucky!” Darcy was shaking again as her hips rocked against his, waves of pleasure crashing against her. Bucky groaned brokenly against Darcy’s neck as he pounded into her soft flesh before tensing behind her.

When they came down the first thing Darcy noticed was the newscasters still remarking at the splendor of the New Year and the fireworks show. The television seemed louder now, as if they hadn’t just been fucking senselessly a minute ago.

Darcy pressed a kiss against Bucky’s bicep before shifting to lay on her back and stare up at him. Bucky looked at her and smiled lazily, content and languid against her.

“So you want to hear how we technically could’ve been doing this a billion years ago?” Darcy asked, brushing an errant strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear.

Bucky hummed and wrapped his arms around her until she was snug against him. “I’d love to hear it, doll. And after that, I’ll tell you about a few other things we should have done a billion years ago.”

Darcy grinned. “So there’s this thing called the Twin Paradox and relative velocity…”

**-:-**

**January 1 st – New Year’s Day**

**-:-**

“Ugh. You lot. Never allowed on my private ski resort ever again,” Tony groused behind his sunglasses. The light was still causing sensitivity issues and this? This sucked.

“You’re just mad you gave Vision his first kissing experience,” Rhodey smirked.

“First _male_ ,” Wanda corrected.

“I find it to be no different than with a woman, although the emotional intimacy with a partner rather than a comrade is much more preferable,” said Vision with a slight shrug.

Steve left his bags in his room and went straight to Bucky’s. Puzzled when Bucky didn’t answer, and even more puzzled when he realized he wasn’t in his apartment, Steve went to Darcy’s room but found it empty as well.

Shaking his head, Steve headed to the communal area, hoping to finally get back on his green juice regiment—but as he stepped inside the kitchen, Steve saw his whole life flash before his eyes only to land to this moment.

Steve tilted his head, smiling, before giving a soft cough.

Darcy, who was sitting atop the counter with her legs dangling around Bucky’s sides, pulled away from the hot slide of Bucky’s lips to look at Steve. Her hands went still on Bucky’s shoulders and in his hair as Bucky began kissing insistently down her neck.

“Hey, Cap,” Darcy said cheerfully, if not a little breathlessly.

Bucky twisted his torso to glance back at Steve. They stared at each other for a long moment, Steve not bothering to hide his smirk.

Bucky shrugged, pulling Darcy close for a hug. “S’like you said, punk. Darcy’s a nice gal.”

**Author's Note:**

> I snuck in a reference dialogue from Parks and Rec, if anyone caught that :)
> 
> It's literally 4 in the morning and if you catch a mistake you now know why...all shall be fixed after a few hours of sleep.
> 
> Comments feed the muse xxx


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